


Sherlock for the Soul

by Writing_Geeks



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempt at Humor, Drama, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Original Character(s), Originally Posted Elsewhere, Romance, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Slow Burn, Triggers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-05-04 08:37:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14589171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writing_Geeks/pseuds/Writing_Geeks
Summary: Her name is Violet Connery.She's the girl with the silly half smile, and the messed up hair. She's the girl that will laugh at anything, even if it's something stupid and simple. She's the girl that looks shy but opens up to be a bright flower full of color. At least, on the surface she's this girl. On the outside.Her name is Violet.She's the girl that can't stand being around large groups of people. She's the girl that has snarky remarks hidden beneath honey glazed words. She's the girl that hates getting pushed around and can't stand being weak in the face of confrontation. She's the girl that has been through something that only a few some could relate to. She uses sarcasm to cover up her feelings, hates the pep of the world sometimes and loves just being alone. This is the real Violet.So what was she doing in London, moving into a empty flat above two very unique people?She was hiding. Hiding herself, her old life. But you know how these stories go. You can't hide forever. Espeically from your feelings._Just a little fluff story that I put together. Originally posted on Wattpad. WARNING: There will be talks of depression and abuse and hints at suicide.





	1. New game! Press Start!

**Author's Note:**

> First part of all notes for these chapters will contain warnings. So WARNING: This story will include talks of depression, abuse and other dark subjects in later chapters.

 

 

 

"Is everything alright over there? Did you get everything?" my sisters voice crackled over the phone, the background noise giving me a hint that it was raining pretty hard wherever she was.

"For the 4th time, yes. I'm sure I have every single thing here, including the stupid china plates you sent over" I mutter, shifting aside the box of china plates that looked way to expensive for someone like me to ever use let alone own. They weren't even all that nice looking...they were plain white plates with a ugly little pink flower printed on the center.

They screamed "BREAK ME HAVE MERCY" or something like that. 

"Don't call them stupid! They're nice! Much nicer then the boring plates you have- not to mention you can actually serve people now instead of just forking out paper plates" She yapped in my ear, my face falling into a grimace. I so wanted to toss this phone out the window and watch it smash against the pavement outside, a creative way to end a call in my opinion. But considering I didn't have the money to get a new one...I would just have to suffer. 

"You want me to serve them with china plates with a dinky little flower on it? That screams grandma complex" I muttered, closing the cardboard flaps on the china plates so I wouldn't have to stare at them anymore and instead decided to shift my attention to unpacking some of the more important things- like...like something...important. I stood in the middle of the living room, now rubbing the back of my head as my train of thought suddenly vanished. 

"A grandma complex would be more colorful then whatever complex you're sporting right now. Maybe this little trip will change that" She said, earning a sigh from my lips. "It's not a trip Eva" I answer, my eyes darting towards the windows. "Violet, It's a trip. There's no way you're going to stay in London forever" she said with what sounded like a tone of desperation to her voice like she was trying to convince us both that I wasn't staying here for as long as she thought I was. 

I put my free on my hip, like my sister could see the 'I'm serious here' stance even though she's probably all cozy or whatever in bed somewhere back home. _Back home_ the words echoed back to me, my brain flashing to what home was for me. It was a apartment that had brick walling and a look across a city that was constantly shifting from loud as possible to so quiet that if I even exhaled it would wake up the whole world. Home was where I had a leak in the ceiling that dripped every time the rain came pounding down with such fury it might be considered little bullets hitting the roof. Home was....

Not here...not yet. How sad was that thought.

"Eva I'm not going into this again" I said, snapping out of my little daze after being quiet for a while. "I just...I thought this was a call to check up on me, not to get into old conversations" I huffed, hearing her breath pick up and knowing that the next thing she would say would be something to continue the conversation. "It is...I just...I was just hoping that..."

"Hoping that I would say this is a huge mistake and that I'm coming home before Christmas?"

"...Yes" she answered, a sigh escaping my lips that I have been holding in this whole time. "Even if I would say that...I can't exactly go anywhere for a while...if you haven't noticed I put every dime, penny, nickel, dollar and dime to my name into coming here..." I said, the thought of even looking at my bank account right now was...an ordeal that future me could deal with. Right now, present me needed to find the box that housed the mountain of Peoples Maginze that I have never read but made great paper weights. Or costers. Depends on the issue. 

"I bet mom and dad would be willing-" Eva began but my chest contracted at the sentence she was forming. "NO" I said with a bit more volume then I intended. I cleared my throat, taking a pause before going on. "No, I...they don't need to know about that. I'm fine, I'll be fine. I get paid soon and I already have a couple of months rent down so...I'm fine" I said.

_That's the last thing I need right now...It's hard enough to even talk to you   I thought to myself. If I were to even drag my folks into this, that would mean explaining WHY I was doing this. Why I was moving across the ocean to a the UK, why I was ignoring their calls...why I was just shutting them out in general. _You didn't even say goodbye too..._ That nasty voice echoed in my head.   
_

"Oh...well, then if you can't come home for Christmas then I'll come to _you_ for Christmas. Mark that down in you're kitty calendar." she chirped with, what I could only imagine, a stupid happy smirk.

"I don't have a kitty poster"

"Yet"

"...No. No" I narrowed my eyes slightly wondering if I should start expecting a lot more mail in the future then I needed. 

"We'll see about that. But let's move on from the depressing stuff" she said, the sound of a bed creaking came through the phone as her voice got just a bit quieter. "Let's talk about _boys_ "

"Boys? What am I...12?" I scuffed, trying to get a box from underneath the pile of other boxes...like an idiot. 

"Fine. _Men._ The opposite gender." she sighed, but didn't wait even a heartbeat to launch into it. "So how are they? Is it a land filled British hotness? Ohmygosh what if you end up running into you're future boyfriend, like he accidently spills you're coffee and offers to buy you a new one and you end up falling in love?" She cooed and squealed at the end of what sounded like a plot from one of those Christmas hallmark channel movies. 

"Oooor...not"  I shrug my shoulders as if it really mattered about my body langue, meanwhile dragging out- what the hell was this? A lamp? Yes, a lamp.

"Oh come on! That would be so cute. And you could get married and have kids and live a great life- Oh my gosh Violet please" She begged. If you haven't known Eva for long, you would know that she was a sucker for that kind of stuff- mushy, gushy romance that was literally just Hallmark channel movies. 

"Eva... I can't guarantee I will find love here, not after...ya know" My voice hushed slightly, a pausing coming over the phone as we both realized that maybe me finding someone was just...not the best thing. "Knowing my luck I'll end up with a psychopath" I chuckled nervously, earning a nervous laugh in response. 

"I think...I think something good will come from this Violet...I really do" she said with a genuine tone that I haven't heard in a long time. It was comforting, and even though a part of me doubted it...I couldn't help but want to believe in it. I really...really hope that something good does come from this. 

"Anyway, I'm gonna let you go...I need to start unpacking and I can't get that done with you yapping in my ear"

"You still haven't unpacked? You only have like 5 boxes and 4 of them are probably filled with nasty clothes"

"Alright listen here you little sh-" I started, ready to defend the my wardrobe of band t-shirts and comic book hoodies with sofie shorts when 2 loud pops cracked through the air. It startled me so much I nearly dropped my phone, letting a few curses slip past my lips as I looked toward the doorway. "What was that?!" Eva's voice crackled through the speaker, but I didn't answer except for a few "Ums" and "Eh" 

Now, either I was super high on something or...that sounded a lot like...gun shots. 

_Nahh_

I shook my head, clearing my throat while my sister shrieked over the phone. "Eva-Eva stop screaming...I'm sure it was like little pop crackers or something...or someone's TV is up REALLY loud"

_BANG BANG_

"Like...SUPER loud"

_BANG_

"Or it could be gunshots" I mused while scratching my cheek, which the response from Eva was "OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH" 

"Listen, I'm gonna go find out what it is and I'll call you back okay? Sweetbyeloveyou" I hurried the goodbye as she started threatening to call the British police which I wasn't sure how that would even work considering she's in America and I'm in the UK. I didn't really understand it either.

Mustering up as much courage as I could...I ventured out of the safety of my home and into the hallway, which in a funny way gave me a moment to realize my surroundings. The creaky stairs and old wallpaper...and the gunshots coming from below. 

Carefully, I walked down each step as if each one held a secret bomb underneath them and towards the source of the gunshots. My heartbeat was like a motor boat, my mouth was drying up and I could feel my stomach dropping as I grew closer. It occurred to me halfway down the trip of stairs that I should have grabbed something to defend myself with...as if I had anything useful.

_Yeah defend myself with one of People Magazine...the one about weight loss honestly it's just a load of horse crap._

Letting out a shaky exhale...I pushed further on, a few more pops graced the air which not gonna lie I may or may not have tinkled a little. But I pushed anyway, now standing in front of the door. Should I knock and let the people there know that they were um...gunshots? Or were they all dead and there was a crazed robber inside? I could faintly make out voices on the other side, two men by the sound of it but then again I shouldn't really trust my ears.

I raise my hand up, trying to steady it before I let my knuckles hit the door frame. 

A pause.

Movement.

The door opened up and to be honest I was surprised.

It was indeed a man, which brown tussled hair and blue eyes so icy it was like someone had literally plucked ice from the ground and put it into his eye sockets. His skin was pale too so what I could guess was that he didn't get a lot of sun. But still he was handsome nonetheless. And he...was holding a gun! Yeah um....what.

"Client?" He said, snapping me out of my daze. "Um...no" I answered earning a frustrated groan  before the door slammed in my face.

Another pause. 

"Hi my name is Violet...nice to meet you too" I whispered to myself, scrunching my face up from the utter confusion going on in my head. 

Maybe moving to the UK was a bad idea....

Or maybe coming to 221B Baker street was the bad idea.

 

 


	2. Deductions, Sarcasm and John, Oh my!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This story will include talks of depression, abuse and other dark subjects in later chapters.

 

Usually when someone sees another person with a gun your first instinct is to run the other way toward the nearest shelter or to someone that can help.  But it's not every day when you run into someone that has a gun, asks if you are a 'client' and then slam the door in your face to continue shooting around like nothing happened. Luckily for me...I'm stubborn...but also afraid. 

I was more afraid then I was stubborn and the thought to run upstairs while calling the police did cross my mind....a lot in the span of me standing there. 

 _What does he mean by client....is it...is it like one of THOSE clients...._  the sudden thought came to me, and I instantly pushed that thought out. No, no one that was shooting a gun around like a madman worked in _that_ field. 

"Are you going to stand out there all day or are you going to actually DO something?" the strangers voice broke my train of thought, my cheeks burning when I realized that I have just been standing here and staring at the door...for who knows how long. How embarrassing...nothing I'm not use to of course. 

Should-Should I do something or...should I leave or come back? My cheeks burned with the thought of standing here though another second, so I turned on my feet ready to go back upstairs and hide forever. Instead I let out a frightened shriek when I cam face to face with Mrs. Hudson who gave a frightened yelp in response. Was I so out of it that I didn't even registrar the land lady coming up the stairs?

"Oh! Oh I'm so sorry Mrs. Hudson I-I didn't see you there" I  quickly apologize to her while taking a step back, moving away from the door where the gun wielding stranger was. "Oh it's nothing Ms. Connery. I just came up to see to Sherlock's little shooting spree. I didn't expect to run into you though, in fact I haven't seen you leave or come through here very much at all" She said, my already red cheeks burning even brighter. 

"Well I uh...I've been busy with unpacking" I said, only half lying really. Other then unpacking...I'm not gonna lie on the fact that I have been avoiding the people here. Not really a people's person now a days...or ever to be real.

I wasn't like my sister who would openly seek out the neighbors like a hound, looking to have that neighbor relationship where you become friends and do dinner like once a month. I would rather just live in bliss not even talking to them, maybe a friendly smile or hello some days. 

Or in this case...gun shots. 

"I just...I heard the gun shots and came down to-" I began but she waved her hands and moved toward 'Sherlock's' door. "Oh I should have warned you about him, he gets a bit eccentric when he's bored"

 _"Bored"_ I repeat the last word, my shoulders sagging almost dramatically if I say so. He was BORED? _Oh Violet what have you gotten yourself into_

"Sherlock!" Mrs. Hudson's sharp voice broke my thoughts once again, I walked almost zombie like to the door way to peek into the crazy mans living room. Even though my gut was yelling at me to get out and just shut myself back up in my own apartment, I was curious as to what kind of living style this guy was in. Did he have like test jars of weird things on the walls? Did he have creepy dolls or did he talk to a beach ball like Tom Hanks did in that one movie? Well, now that I was standing in the doorway I can confirm...it wasn't...what I was picturing. 

It looked...normal...I suppose. There were shelves on either side of the fireplace filled with books and there were two chairs seated in the middle of the room. There was a desk, some paper littered the floor and the walls had the wallpaper that was god awful...not like I would ever say that out loud in front of Mrs. Hudson of course.

"How many times do I have to come here to tell you to stop shooting at my walls?"

"It's not like it's damaging anything that can't be fixed Mrs. Hudson, I can't help that nothing is taking an interest to me" the one who I guessed was Sherlock spoke. He was sitting in one of the said chairs, the black and leather one near the windows.  "Oh!" Mrs. Hudson gave a frustrated sigh and put her hands in the air as a sign of surrender already. It was almost like she's been through this before and was only coming to the same outcome. 

"Sherlock, I swear one of these days I'm going to make you be the one to run out to the shop. And I swear if that fridge is filled with _fingers_ again- We need space for things like milk not appendages-oh..." A new voice broke the air, coming from behind which gave me the spookes. I turned around while shuffling out of the way as a new man came into view. Much shorter then the one that was sitting in the chair, sandy blonde hair and dark eyes. Also he looked tired, like he was already out of energy when it was only like what...2 in the afternoon? 

"John! Oh thank goodness, could you please tell Sherlock to stop shooting at my walls?" Mrs. Hudson asked with a tone of relief. "Sherlock, again really? You know there are other things you could do" this John said with a exasperated sigh as he nudging past me only sparing me a glance as he went to put his bags down on the counter. 

 _How awkward is this, everyone here knows each other...except for you_   The voice in my head purred, my cheeks burning once again at the thought that it was right. I was the stranger in a room full of friends. I mean only people who were super close to each other would react this way toward a man who was shooting _a gun around._  

"Nothing that would keep my interest John, I need a _case_ not a crossword puzzle" Sherlock mused while twirling the gun on his finger. It wasn't like the ones you would see in TV either it was like a revolver I think- _why do I care though? Why. Just why._

Mrs. Hudson gave another sigh that was partnered with a few _tuts_ before speaking again. "Well I suggest you halt to that soon, you're frightening you're new neighbor" She gestured to me when saying that, and those crazy eyes darted over to me who was wishing at that moment that I could turn into dust. And then be set on fire.

And then explode. Twice. Just to be sure.

"I-I uh I wasn't frightened I mean I-I was-worried, cause...you know..." I felt my chest tighten as he kept on staring at me with that...look. His roommate was also looking over to me, opening his mouth to speak but Sherlock beat him to it. "If you were really that worried you would have called the police...instead you're here." He spoke so calmly, gripping the gun he was twirling and setting it down on the arm of his chair. 

"Well-"

"You're defiantly not a police officer just by telling from you're body build. Nor are you use to sudden human interaction, telling from your stuttering every time you speak" He started to list these...things. These... _deductions._

"Introverted more like it, obviously American that's clear-"

"Sherlock" John began, a panicked tone coming to him as he abandoned the grocery's on the table but Sherlock went on without a care. In fact he even got up to get closer, his eyes never leaving mine. "W-What is he doing?" I asked nervously, my heart beat picking up as he moved toward me. He moved forward slowly with each word, testing how close he could get like he was approaching a wild animal. 

"You don't own a dog right now, but you have owned one at one point since you haven't bothered to clean the shirt you're wearing of the dog hair" I glance down to my shirt at the words, opening my mouth to counter that I couldn't see a single dog hair. "Obviously a lint roller doesn't take all the hair off, it doesn't substitute for actually cleaning you're clothing"

"Hey I haven't had-"

"The time, or rather you just don't feel like it" He interrupted me, which for a side note I hate. "Why haven't you been sleeping well?" He asked suddenly. "Sherlock. Stop. It" John tried once more, but Sherlock didn't break his gaze on me, now standing in front of me expecting an answer. 

"Wouldn't you like to know Mr. Know it all" I responded to his question, the annoyed edge in my voice must have been obvious from the twitch of his eyebrow.

"That's why I asked"

"Well it looks like you ain't gonna know Mr. _Squints._ " I shot back, my heart picking up as my brain was battling with each other. One side screamed _SHUT UP AND RUN. AVOID. AVOID._ and the other side yelled even louder _FIGHT HIM, FIGHT HIM AND HIS DUMB shockingly pretty FACE_

He raised a single eyebrow before taking in a small intake of air, Mrs. Hudson behind him was making this face that just screamed "Oh shit" 

"Probably something worrisome. Very worrisome, trouble with the boyfriend? No, it's not that. You clearly don't have one. You wouldn't bother being here if you did, you would send the stronger one down to see to it" He went on, his words going faster now that I could barely compared them enough to think of some witty come back. 

"Maybe family troubles? No that wouldn't warrant moving all the way here, that would be ludicrous unless it was something extremely serious. On the run? No, you don't have th-"

"Do you have an off button? Can you fax me you're theories or text me them, I swear I will put it on my fridge with a 'good job' sticker on it" I interrupted, wanting nothing more then to leave this room so I can go to bed and think of good come backs that would have been useful. "Was that sarcasm?" He narrowed his eyes at my OBVIOUS sarcasm. 

"Congratulations, you identified sarcasm. Now you get TWO Good Job stickers" I said with a matching fake happy voice, pulling a 'super happy' smile. Mrs. Hudson giggled softly behind him, which for the record only made me want to spur him on longer. I came into this super awkward and confused but this was something I knew. This was something familiar that I could use. 

"ALRIGHT" John interjected- literally having to step between us and cutting off Sherlock before he could make another weird deduction thing. "I think we're getting off on the wrong foot"

"I think we got off the wrong foot and broke it to be honest" I muttered, sending a small glare to the man who had his mouth shut tight and his lips pressed together like he was holding back on those deductions. John glanced towards me with that face that I knew all too well- my mother made that same face when I wouldn't stop talking. The totally fed up with the talking and sarcasm. 

"How about I bring up some tea and we can all get to know each other on a much better note?" Mrs. Hudson added to the peace treaty that John was trying to make. 

"Yes, that sounds fantastic Mrs. Hudson I think that's a great idea- Sherlock _go sit down_   and- and I'm sorry I didn't even get you're name." He said, while I slowly began to realize that I just had a...argument? Could you even call it that? Whatever, I had a little spat with some stranger- in his home in front of his roommate and his land lord who were also STRANGERS. 

Why were we even talking about in the first place? Why was I being so damn defensive over his dumb deductions anyway I-I could have handled that so much better or I could have just left and go back to unpacking. Hell even call back Eva who was probably so _worried._

 _Is it too late to run back to my room now and hide under 30 blankets?_ I thought to myself as the swell of thoughts came rushing into my head, not even registering John asking for my name while Mrs. Hudson walked out of the room to fetch the tea. "What?" I said, looking up at John who was staring at me with furrowed eyebrows and what I guessed was a worried look. "Oh um...My name is John Watson. And that is-"

"Sherlock Holmes" interjected said man, who was now sitting in his chair once more, still looking at me with that...stare.

"Um..." I swallowed the growing lump in my throat, crossing my arms over my chest while my eyes darted to the ground. "Violet...Violet Connery"

There was an awkward silence for a moment...and a moment more. 

What a nice introduction....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a bit longer then the rest, not to mention it was harder to write. I'm exactly use to writing Sherlock yet or John so apologies if this is a bit odd.


	3. You have mail! And Sherlock!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This story will include talks of depression, abuse and other dark subjects in later chapters.

If you thought that this whole next bit was just gonna be about me talking about how the awkward tea party went down after the little "Sherlock vs Violet insult battle" well then I'm sorry to disappoint. Even I don't want to relive that horrible awkward mess and it's my story. It's like reliving those cringey high school years, or even worse those awful middle school years. Yikes. 

I'll give you a summary of how it went though just to feed you a bit of my pain. We sat for about an hour eating cookies and drinking tea, which I don't even like tea, and getting to know each other. Or well getting to know my new neighbors, not so much them getting to know me. Even then I have kind of forgotten what they told me as I was too busy steaming in my mind about how awful I must look. Getting into arguments with my neighbors on like the first day will look really good, defiantly. 

Can you...pick up the sarcasm? Yes? Good.

Anyway, we chit chatted for a while after that, I said my goodbyes and I then proceed to run up to my apartment where I hid in a corner for an hour wondering if it was too late to sell this place and move to Australia. Of course I would be even  _more_ broke then I already am but honestly if it means forgetting that days events then it would be worth it. Unfortunately I was too much of a big coward to actually do that so I resulted to plan B; avoid at all costs. Yes the following days I put into affect what I usually do when wanting to avoid people I have horrible experiences with and want to altogether forget. I avoid them like the plague, like they were Justin Bieber fans that were still living his the glory  _Baby, Baby ooooooooooh_ days. It wasn't a hard plan, just pray to whatever lord or universe that you never run into them again. 

Sadly even Plan B didn't work. The days after this event ended up with me running into Mister John Watson and Sherlock a number of times. For example, when I'm out getting coffee and coming back to enjoy it alone I run into them and end up having awkward talk again until my coffee gets cold to which I now have a COLD black coffee with cream. And when I'm out picking up tools to fix my stupid oven, I run into them on the streets. When I get back from my new work place, I run into them as they're heading out. Again, and again, and again I run into them. And he's always _looking at me._ Like all the time, even when I turn to walk away I can feel those eyes burn into my back. And I don't know if it's glaring or if I have something on my freaking face.  It's like he's never seen a woman before and honestly I wouldn't be surprised. 

But today was going to be different. I was NOT, I repeat, NOT going to run into John Watson or Sherlock Holmes. No more staring, no more awkward conversations, no more I say. Today I had off too so I wasn't going to even step foot outside this apartment. Instead I was gonna focus on finishing unpacking and then maybe sleeping or watching a funny show in my fuzzy socks and snake pajamas. 

And it started out like that, with my sitting on the floor staring at the TV while I unrolled another candle holder from it's newspaper encasings. Some British drama was showing on the tv and honestly I had no idea what was going on but I already hated a dude named Blake, called 3 different people whores and also cried for no reason and felt bad for some Jessica. I finally, FINALLY, forced myself to hit the pause button on the remote, letting out a grunt as I forced myself of the floor and away from this...garbage. Stepping carefully around the little fort of candles and candle holders I had made I made way towards the kitchen. 

 _Take your meds, finish unpacking, get the mail, make some food and actually eat, take your meds, make the bed, clean the floor, TAKE YOUR MEDS THIS TIME -_ My brain rattled off the list I had mentally made myself memorize when I have nothing to do. Stuff that makes me get up and do something instead of giving me the chance to sit in bed and do...well nothing. Especially taking the meds part, that was a very important thing to do. "Find new doctor too..." I muttered as I thought about the hassle to get these meds even. Considering I couldn't take the ones already prescribed to me here I had to find a new doctor who I can already tell would not be able to tell apart a Winnie the Pooh vitamin and a actual Xanax. 

Padding over to the kitchen I fished the three pill bottles out of the cabinet and dished them out onto my hand. Well more like two pill bottles of actual medicine and then a vitamin bottle. Fishing out one small green tablet, and then a slightly bigger blue capsule with a purple vitamin into my hand. "If I gather 3 more pills, with just a snap of my fingers I can wipe out half of my problems" I muttered to myself with a small smile on my face. But just as I was about to swallow these pills like they were candy and then chow down on my vitamin- 4 sharp knocks broke my air of comfortable silence. 

I froze. 

I didn't move at first, just holding my Doctor prescribed drugs in my hands while I wait. 4 more sharp knocks, louder this time. I waited some more- maybe if I stood still long enough they would go away.

"I know you're in there"

_Shit_

I silently curse to myself, knowing that voice all too well. I could already feel his eyes staring at me like he had x-ray vision.  _Just see what he wants and come back, enjoy the rest of day and forget about it._ The much nicer side to my brain whispered to me.

 _Or think about for hours on end afterwards or maybe even something super mean and nasty to get him to leave! Then think about how much of a bitch you were!_ whispered the not so nice side. 

Nonetheless I couldn't exactly hide from him, my gut was saying he would somehow open the door probably and talk to me anyway. So I forced myself to move away from the kitchen and to the door, undoing the locks that I had installed when first arriving- not because of Sherlock of course...but for other reasons yet to be explained. I opened the door as far as a crack to see the star of the story standing there, looking at my face and holding up some envelops with my name printed in neat typing. "I believe these are for you, they were in our box by mistake" He stated matter of fact.

"Oh..." I blinked, looking at the mail in his hand and up at him before reaching out to take hold of it. But, shame on me thinking it would be that easy. 

"You have a lot of bills here...and mail from your government too but not as in spam mail of course. Must have been a real hassle to get a place here in Britain.  " He muttered, pulling my mail back just a bit as he looked at the addresses of which the mail had come from. He flipped through them like he was looking for something tasty to munch on but the menu wasn't offering much.

"Um...yeah...sure was...now can I have my um...my mail" I replied, swallowing the thick lump in my throat as my heart picked up in a nervous skip. Was this gonna turn into another insult war? Really wasn't in the mood right now for this, or honestly was I ever gonna be in a mood for Sherlock.

"Hmmm" He hummed, looking up at me with those sterling eyes of his. "Tell me, what's a girl like you-" he began, "-talking to a lawyer? Preferably a lawyer that deals with big domestic troubles and sometimes even takes part in the occasional druggie case. A Mr. Blaine Baker" he drawled out as he slipped the crisp envelope out of the stack he was holding onto. My mouth ran dry at the sight, licking my lips nervously as he looked on at it and then at my. His head tipped ever so slightly to the side as he noticed my eyes were now glued to the envelope. Then he asked the question that I have been hearing for roughly a year or so. "What happened?"

"It's none of your business" I stated a bit too quickly, snatching the mail from his hands and the letter from Mr. Baker and went to retreat into my home and made to slam the door in his face. But instead of hearing that satisfying click the door being shut I was met with a thud. Like someone had stopped it. I turned back around to see he had wedged his shoe in to stop me from closing it completely. His eyes met with mine again and I swore that my breathe shook a little at the gaze. His eyes were narrowed like he was trying to figure something out, like I was a new puzzle to him that he couldn't crack cause I was withholding the pieces- he wouldn't be wrong in that regard. 

"If you need help with something me and John would be able to-"

"I'm  _fine._ Goodbye, have a nice day" I insisted on the  _I'm fine_ part as I reached out to push him away and out the door. But just as he was out the door, his hands came up to grab my wrist and turn my hand ever so slightly to peer at the pills that I had forgotten about. They were still clutched in my sweaty palms, my fingers struggling to hold them so they wouldn't drop to the floor. He scrunched up his eyebrows but I didn't let him have a second longer to look. I practically ripped my hand away like it had been thrust into a pot of boiling water, holding it to my chest like a wounded animal before slamming the door in his face.

I waited. I waited until I could hear his footsteps retreat back to his own apartment. Until I could hear the soft sound of a door being shut. Until I knew for sure he wasn't waiting out there for me...waiting to ask the horrible question all over again. But even then I couldn't let this unease escape me...because what was in my hands now made me even more nervous then when I opened this door. Slowly, I made my way back to the kitchen, setting the pile of mail down on the table before finishing what I had originally started. I took my pills, as nasty as it was after being held in my sweaty hands, and chewed up the vitamin. I had to take my meds. 

Then, after a moment of just staring at the counter for a while, I turned to the table and sat down in the single chair I owned. My, how the mood has shifted. 

Of course I sorted it out how I usually did. I tossed the bank letters into one pile, the spam directly into the trash...and the more important ones set down right in front of me. Which consisted of only one which was from Mr. Baker. Now I couldn't hide the fact of who he was, and seeing as the letter wasn't tampered with I could conclude that Sherlock didn't open it. Which honestly surprised me. 

So I began to open the letter myself, ripping it open and fishing out the neatly folded piece of paper that was concealed inside. I unfolded it. And I read it. 

It began like this...

 

 

_Dear Ms. Connery._

_I'm sorry to inform you of this....._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry these updates aren't exactly like SCHEDULED. I post when I get the inspiration and to be honest I've been kindling this chapter for a while. Also you get to see a bit of Violet's past! Do you think you can somewhat answer Sherlocks question?


	4. Dark places are dangerous, take this!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS TALK OF ABUSE AND RAPE/SEXUAL ASSAULT AND DARK THOUGHTS.

_Dear Ms. Connery,_

_I'm sorry to inform you of this, but today Judge Hallaway has decided that Mr. Troy Vox will not serve the 2 year prison sentence that was originally what we agreed on before your leave and has been changed to 2 years probation and a $650 fine. He will also be required to attend therapy during the same amount of time, but it could be lessened if he is seen to exhibit 'good behavior' to the people observing him. Judge Hallaway has given a reason to this change because it has been brought to her attention that the evidence we showed her is not enough- that your testimony did not shed enough light on the subject and that the timeline you were given to bring this to official court was too late since departing ways with Mr. Vox. She also has since lifted the restraining order on Mr. Vox since it had come to her attention you were in another country, ignoring the protests of both other past romantic partners of Troy Vox and myself that he has a history of stalking and following others who have 'wronged him.'_

_As for the more serious charges I'm afraid she dismissed them for the day, and that Mr. Vox was excused with no other punishments and will be returning to his home in Akron, Ohio. But seeing as how light he got on this, there is no doubt Judge Hallaway will not go heavy with the more serious charges. I wish I could give you some good news but it seems that the tides have worked against us in this case. In all honesty, Judge Hallaway will likely dismiss the charges altogether since you refused to have the doctors run a rape kit in the hospital and thus only leaving us with your testimony and his own testimony. You were right that he certainly does know how to talk his way out of things, he seems to have already won the hearts of the jury and the judge. I speculate that he has inside dealings as well, considering the power his family holds. I'm afraid there isn't much else I can do. The best I can do for now is try to get the restraining order put back up but I doubt Judge Hallaway will allow that._

_But maybe since you are starting new somewhere else, you can begin to put your past behind and forget about Troy Vox. I know the scars are still there but the memories will fade. As a friend, I hope you begin to heal...you're too much of a good person to be left broken._

_If you need help, my number is at the bottom._

_Please...be safe Violet Connery,_

_Sincerely,_

_Blaine Baker_

_Criminal Assault Attorney._

_614-406-7089_

* * *

   

….

Yeah it's bad isn't it? You're probably thinking 'Oh noooooo this sounds so bad, oh geez oh nooooo she must be crying and be all hurt :((((('

Well you were kind of right.

 

I'm actually sitting on my kitchen floor hugging a bottle of vodka.

 

I actually look like a mess, having been sitting here for roughly 4 hours just staring at the letter that was at sitting on the edge of the table after panicking and crying for 2 hours. How messed up was this? I get beaten and bashed around like a drum for roughly 2 years, then put through a year of stressful court hearings only to be told that the bastard was getting off...with 2 years probation...and a $650 fine. I mean. What was I expecting right? Actually...I WAS expecting to hear that this bitch was going to be sitting behind bars for 2 years for bashing my head against the counter of the bathroom again and again until I black out. I was expecting someone to come to me with those locks of hair I chopped off and kept chopping off in an attempt to get him to stop dragging me by the hair across the floor when I refused to go into the bedroom with him. I expected....

Something...anything more then...that. 

 _"It's your fault you know"_ that voice echoed in my head.  _"If you had just given the doctors what they wanted, if you hadn't been so scared. If you had listened to your sister and actually gone through with it instead of sitting around scared he'll come and take you back to that hell hole then-"_

 

"No..." I mumbled, squeezing my eyes shut as those dark thoughts flooded my head. No no no no no. It wasn't my fault. It...I didn't give the doctors the kit because he didn't...he assaulted me I never let him...did I? I mean...maybe he did and I just didn't...

No. No this was dangerous territory that I was swimming into. Somewhere that I swore I wouldn't go back. I wasn't going back to that place ever again. I had...I had gone through too much to get out of there to go back. I swallowed whatever spit was forming in my mouth, uncorked the vodka bottle and took a nice big swig of it. It burned yeah but I needed it. I placed the cap back on and forced myself to stand. I forced myself to push the vodka bottle back toward the far corner of the counter, grab the letter off the table and shove it in some drawer that wasn't occupied already with shit. I forced myself to stand and walk to the living room. I spent too long building back up the strength he took away from me...I needed this strength or else...or else I wasn't going to make it through the year here by myself. 

Instead of sitting around and letting those thoughts bounce around in my head I instead focused on doing stuff. Unpacking the books and DVDs that I had loaded up, putting away the clothes that still sat in the tubs and bins in my room, and put the candles into their proper candle holder before placing them on the shelves. I had to keep moving. I would have a good cry later when I was alone and just be sad then right? Of course...this felt a bit more heavy...like a simple cry fest wasn't going to fix it. To be honest I wanted to scream and shout at the sky. I wanted to scream at someone, and just ask them why wasn't Troy Vox locked up like the monster he was. I wanted to scream at the sky, I wanted to cry and sob into a pillow until my tear ducts were more dry then my love life. I wanted to lash out. I wanted to drink that whole bottle of vodka, and then down the whole bottle of whisky I would purchase after doing that. I just wanted to let loose and just...let it go. 

But here's the sad thing, I DON'T do any of that. I just go about my day anyway and act like the letter never existed. Because for some reason I have it etched into my brain that I wasn't allowed to show any of those extreme emotions. Hell I didn't even like crying! I hate crying! Somewhere in my life, it was pounded into my that it's not okay to show emotions other then happiness and some amounts of anger. Being sad was a weakness. Being upset about something was too dramatic. My brain worked that into my head like it was a goddamn prayer. Like it was the LAW. I thought that if anyone were to see me like this I wouldn't be loved or liked. 

That's what Troy said too. That if people knew I was this needy, this sad all the damn time they wouldn't like me. That I should be lucky that I still had him, that he loved me even though I was acting like a complete blob. He told me that day and night. Whenever we would get into an argument and he was too tired to smack me, he would roll onto his side and talk like that. Ha, could you believe it if I told you that before I moved in with him, Troy seemed like the nicest man on earth? Before I moved in with the rat he was like a walking talking superman. He had the gelled back hair and the nice fitting clothes, he worked out and had a good body. He was handsome and nice, and he would tell me how much he loved me. Troy would take me out to dinner and take me to fancy events, he even took me to meet his parents. Speaking of his parents, did you know his dad was a Judge for domestic violence cases?! And his brother worked in the police department that handled sexual assaults and rapes?! Neither did I and I didn't think too much on it then! All I could think about was  _Yum! His mom makes the best FUCKING brownies!_ He was everything I ever dreamed about and it turned out he was everything I feared and much more. 

I don't know how long I stood there, looking down at one of the little knick knacks that I bought...it was a smiling penguin that I had bought while out on vacation. It wore a little coconut bra and had his little flippers up like he wanted to hug me.  _I could really use a hug...and advil_ I thought to myself, rubbing away the tears that had threatened to spill over while I was busy screaming in my head. I set Sir Penguin down on the shelf before heading back to the kitchen, planning on taking a advil and maybe going to bed. Read some fanfiction or something. Until...

I heard a sharp knock on the door. I didn't even need to think to know who it was. 

I let out a long sigh, placing my hand on my hip and the other pinched the bridge of my nose. 

Another knock. 

"Go away Sherlock" I say, but I find myself moving toward the door instead of away. In fact I was OPENING the damn door to find, yup, Sherlock and a Mr. John Watson joining him by his side. He looked like he had been trying to get Sherlock before he knocked but telling by the disappointed look on his face he failed that mission. "Oh! Violet, hello nice um seeing you again" He greeted me with a little wave of his hand. I nodded, raising my eyebrows. 

"I'm gonna be honest, Its not really nice seeing him again. Nice seeing you though John" I answer, looking up at Sherlock who only seemed to roll his eyes. Feeling was mutual. "Yes well um-" He cleared his throat, "- sorry for bothering you but me and Sherlock were  _just leaving"_ he said through grinding teeth as his eyes darted to Sherlock who only seemed to ignore him. "Come on Sher-"

"Come with us" Sherlock interrupted.

"What?" both me and John said at the same time. 

Sherlock sighed, his eyes raising to upwards like he was praying for god to strike him down...though I don't think he believes in god so maybe he was hoping the ceiling to crush him where he stood. "I said..." He began once more, looking down to me, "Come with us. On this case and get out of the house for a while"

Now...I know Sherlock and Watson had this whole case thing going on but like...I know it involves like...dead people and I'm like not really skilled in that. Like John is a doctor and Sherlock is...Sherlock. I had an art degree and was a ads layout designer for a health insurance company. I also illustrate kids books for a side gigs. Not exactly a useful skill in case solving. "Sherlock I don't think you know this but um...we aren't exactly the mystery gang okay? I'm not going to be the Scooby to your Shaggie and Fred" I said, raising my eyebrows at him and shrugging. Again he rolled his eyes at me.

"You are so infuriating sometimes" He mumbled which John Watson cringed, and elbowed his friend. 

"He doesn't mean that." John quickly commented.

"Yes...Yes I do" Sherlock added to that. 

"You give me a headache, alright bye bye!" I said, wanting to get back to my own self loathing when Sherlock placed his hand on the door before I could close it. "Violet..." He said, the tone of his voice causing me to turn to look at him. For a moment all I could see in his face was this pleading message. Like...he knew something that I didn't...or maybe he knew something that I didn't want him to know. For a moment it was nice...I never realized how high his cheekbones were actually and...you know his hair was actually pretty nice...it would be fun to run your fingers through it at least. Yes I...I had forgotten how handsome he really was. 

But then he opened his mouth and he was back to being annoying!

"Would you rather spend the rest of your night sitting in your living room unpacking scented candles that you will most likely never use while smelling like and looking like a street bum that walked out of a children's clothing store?" 

Ah.

Yeah. 

I was gonna kill this man.

I didn't speak for a moment. I just stared at him with eyes intent to kill...

And you know what I said?

 

"Yeah sure what the hell.."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I accidentally refreshed the page and lost like 2 hours worth of typing, well. Enjoy this version, it's almost what I had in mind except not. But this chapter dived deeper into part of why Violet is here. This doesn't explain EVERYTHING, this just explains some of what happened to her, a small bit of what Troy did to her and what is happening now to try and fix that. You will learn of more incidents with Troy and Violet, you'll learn more about why Violet is like this and so on. But there will be happy times too! I do plan on weaving the Sherlock plot into the story too cause I got plans for that. I got lots of plans. Some are happy. Some are well not.


	5. 2 Brits and a American walk into a crime scene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: THIS CHAPTER INCLUDES TALKS OF DEATH AND MURDER.

 

"The wounds on the mans neck are a lot more clean then the woman's, hers being more brutal like someone had something against her...Not to mention the cuts on her neck were done way after she had died, so they both were kept for a longer time then we think...What do you think Violet?"

"I think I'm about to barf again" I grumble, my back turned to the two dead bodies while John patted my back and held the bag in front of me which yes...contained my vomit. Very pleasant to think about.

"I told you she should have waited behind the tape Sherlock..." John said from beside me, to which Sherlock responded to with a scoff. "I can't keep an eye on her from way back there now can I." Sherlock responded, like he was talking about a little kid that could cause havoc if not watched. He probably was just worried I would run off and go back home, but jokes on him I don't even remember the way home. So haha in his big dumb faaa-ughh, ooohhh no. I breathed through my nose. Oh...Uhg that... smell. I lurched forward and grabbed the bag from John as I dry heaved into it, not knowing if my stomach had any contents left to dish up. 

"She'll be fine, besides this might be a good way to detoxify her insides at least. Get rid of some of that vodka she drank" Sherlock mused from behind us.

"I didn't even drink that much" I grumbled while clutching my bag of vomit, wondering if it was too late to add a third body to this murder crime scene. Would I get arrested though? Honestly I would be doing this country a service in my opinion.

Sherlock didn't speak much after that except with the grumpy detective they called Lestrade. Which sounds nothing like Lasagna as I had made the mistake...but it won't stop me from saying it because it's really funny to think about. The whole time the grumpy man just sort of casted looks of disgust and annoyance my way, obviously not liking that someone who is no help whatsoever being here. I mean I get it, I'm a civilian that shouldn't be inside of a crime scene. Sherlock dragged me in, without so much as a warning to Lestrade and basically had informed him that I was a companion to this case for now. I mean he was cool with it at first until he asked what the hell I was good at.

I told him I was a designer with an Art degree.

That's when he knew I was a useless pile of crap in a murder scene. He was pretty upset after that or...maybe it was because I kept referring to him as Lasagna... 

John of course, the ever so gentlemen, was trying his gosh darn best to try and distract me with small talk...or as I dubbed it; awkward conversation starters. He mentioned the weather twice, how I was liking London to which I told him I wasn't at that point, and he also brought up the mail man and other stuff that was just...awkward as hell. I understood he was trying but right now all I cared about was not wanting to be there. He also apologized...a lot.

"I'm just...so sorry for this"

"It's fine...I'll manage"

"Right...I'm just...sorry, this is totally wrong for neighbors to do and-"

"John, it's fine. I'll be fine"

And the conversation went on like that for about 20 more minutes before he was finally called over by Sherlock to look at something on the body, which left me all alone with my vomit bag to give me company. 

What was I doing here? Why the hell did I agree to come anyway? Now that I was just standing there by myself I could somewhat think properly as to what the hell I was doing. I was trying to wrap my head around what the hell I was doing, normally I would never have let anyone convince me to do this kind of crap. I wasn't the go out and party type, hell I didn't even go to a lot of social gatherings that my family set up. My friends have to basically pull teeth with me to get me to go out with them, so what on earth possessed me to say yes so easily to some dude I have known for roughly a week. And to add on to that, a guy I didn't really like or could stand. I could barely survive the car ride here with him doing stupid deductions on this and that even.

 _Most likely because I was such a mess before that..._ I thought to myself, my mind blinking back to what I had been doing before Sherlock had came knocking on my door. Actually, now that I think about it ever since Sherlock got my out of my apartment I haven't really thought back to it since then until now. All I have been thinking about really is how much I wanted to hit Sherlock with a brick every time he mentioned how my head resembled that of a literal birds nest. 

Of course I didn't really want to hit him with a brick though...no matter how tempting it was. 

"Violet" 

Speak of the devil. 

"Yes Sherlock?" I sighed as I turned to look up at him, wondering if he was finally going to tell me that they were done and were going to take me home at long last. "Are we going home now?"

"Not yet, I actually need you to hold something for now" Sherlock said, passing me what looked like a little Tupperware bowl but I couldn't exactly see what was inside. I shook it a bit to see if something would rattle but Sherlock grabbed my hands to stop me before I could shake it, giving me a look that reminded me of my sister when I shook her package of fragile glass statues. "Just...hold it please for now"

"Why can't you?"

"Because you're not doing anything right now...here I'll take...that" He said as he took my vomit bag from me...carefully before handing it off to someone that was walking by who then almost barfed upon opening it. It was like a really weird domino affect...

"So is that why you brought me...to hold things?" I joked, looking at the bowl with the ever growing urge to just...shake it like maraca. 

"Of course not..." He said, looking at my face for a moment before tipping his head slightly and-

"Don't you start" I warn him, knowing the signs now for his weird deduction thingy. He frowned slightly at me and looked taken back by my words. "Start what?"

"You know...that thing"

"What thing?"

"Your weird deduction thingy a bob, you know saying all the things that no one really wants to actually hear out loud" I explain, shrugging my shoulders at him as he squinted his eyes slightly while mouthing a soft 'What' at me. 

"I wasn't going to do that" He protested though, although his eyes say otherwise. I could read it on his face that was what he wanted to do, it was like a drug to him in a way...but I could also read something else. I know I'm not a detective but I was pretty good at picking up body language. His eyes kept darting to my face, his feet kept shifting like he wanted to say something but didn't really know how to bring it up. I know the feeling of that considering I do the same thing when wanting to ask for another donut at the coffee shops. He looked to turn as if he was to head back to the dead bodies behind us but paused, turning back to me.

"How have you been feeling?" He asked me, which took ME back this time. 

"Um...pretty sick considering you know the dead bo-"

"Not that...I mean emotionally. You looked...drained when we came by" He explained further on his question. 

"Oh um..." I bit the inside of my cheek at the thought of either telling him I had felt like complete crap when he came around...but that also meant showing any form emotion and well...I wasn't exactly into that. "I'm fine. Just tired from packing is all"

"Is that before or after you took your medicine?..." He said softly, almost whispered in fact as he looked me in the eyes. Like literally in the eyes as he asked that. A chill shot down my spine as I pressed my lips together, my heart beat skipped nervously as he waited for my answer. Were we really going to talk about this...of all things to talk about he wanted to talk about the thing I really, REALLY didn't want to speak about? 

"I was fine before and after..." I muttered, looking down at the bowl in hand as I broke the weird eye contact he was holding with me.

"Why on earth do you keep saying that when that isn't at all what you mean?" He sounded like he was waiting for me to just break down and tell him my horrible back story like this was some kind of tv show. Like I was a damsel in distress that needed saving and that I would end up falling in love with him. HA. Like that will EVER happen am I right?

"I am  _fine._ Sherlock. Geez. What is up with you and pushing your nose in where it's not wanted?" I snapped at him, getting real tired of his probing. He narrowed his eyes slightly, like he too was getting tired of my resistant attitude of not telling him what was wrong. "It's not your job anyway. I'm not some case for you to work on either" I added, turning away slightly and thought about marching out of here with the little bowl of whatever. I didn't want to talk about this. 

"Because I think you can't keep stuff like this bottled up forever...going to a therapist a few times doesn't exactly fix everything that's broken" He spoke nonchalant at that point, but the hair on the back of my neck seemed to stand on end like a cat. 

"How did-"

"The medical bills. One of them was addressed to a Doctor Lang who is a well known therapist in Ohio. A simple google search told me that..." He said, trailing off at the end while I looked down to my hands. I could feel that flight or fight thing go on in my head, the urge to run away and hide from the problems he was bringing up was so strong right now. I didn't want to talk about this right now. I didn't want to ever talk about it. After a moment of silence he sighed, like he was picking up on how much I wanted to run away from him and hide. 

"Violet...I know we didn't exactly get off to...the best of starts..." He began, taking a moment once more to lick his lips like what he was about to say was tough for him. "And I...apologize...if I have made you feel...unwelcomed in any way...I had thought after our talk earlier that day....that we could start over. And try and be...friends"

Friends? Apologize what-what was this? Was Sherlock Holmes trying to mend the bridge that we have both been shaking and tearing up for a week? I raised my eyebrows at him and this time it was my turn to tip my head to the side. Of course he was trying...and maybe this was his way of trying to be...nice? 

"I should apologize too..." I muttered after a moment, looking down at my shoes before my eyes lifted to his once more. "I'm not exactly...easy to deal with either...I have been rather..."

"Standoffish? A loner?"

"I was going to say reserved...but...I'm willing to try and be friends too. Just as long as you stop taking to me um...crime scenes. Ever heard of the movies or coffee shops?" I said, which to my surprise he smiled at that statement. Yeah...this could work. I mean if I was going to stay in London...might as well start making some friends instead of some unpleasant companions. 

"What are you two grinning about?" John said, joining the little group we were making as he was working off some latex gloves. 

"We're going to try and be friends" Sherlock informed him, while I nodded in agreement. 

"Really? That's good! That's- Oh Sherlock. Why did you make her hold the liver?" John sighed after seeing the bowl I was holding. 

Liver? I was...holding a...human liver?

Oh...Oh god. 

Annndddddd then I fainted.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS TOOK FOREVER. I was having such a hard time trying to start off this chapter because I had no idea for the longest time how Violet would react to being in this kind of situation nor did I know how to make some kind of Sherlock and Violet interaction. But I made it through and hopefully the next chapter will come a lot faster then this one. I'm also sorry that these chapters don't have set schedules, I just update when I can and I really want to continue this more often. I don't know what you do to get informed on this website of something updating since I'm fairly new so like bookmark or something if you want to stay updated! I really hope you guys are enjoying this story as much as I am, and are taking a liking to Violet too!


	6. 20 questions or less

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This story will include talks of depression, abuse and other dark subjects in later chapters.

What happened after I fainted you ask? Did Sherlock sweep me off my feet and rush me back home to care for me? 

Not a  _chance._

Once I woke up, they sort of figured at that point that I wasn't a good partner in crime fighting and detective business. That and Lestrade the grumpy man said that I wasn't allowed to come back. Ever. Unless it was my own crime scene. To which...I won't argue, I don't want to come back to another crime scene if it meant I had to hold another human organ. If you're still expecting something amazing, or  _romantic_ to happen I wouldn't press you're luck. People don't fall in love over night, this isn't some fairy tail you know. They got me home, we all said goodnight and went our ways. I then crashed on my couch while watching that drama about Jessica and the dude that looked like Brad Pitt who plays the character that slept with Jessica's dad...which I did NOT see coming. 

To be honest nothing exciting happened in the weeks following. I didn't get dragged along to their cases and they didn't really bother me for a while, to which I considered was them giving me my space to adjust. Eventually, EVENTUALLY though we did start to bond more as friends. Every time I had to do a errand and I ran into them we had a pleasant little chat before saying goodbye. Of course our chats only lasted for about 5 or 10 minutes at a time, and most of the time John and I did most of the talking while Sherlock just sort of...observed. He didn't stare like he use to but I would sometimes catch his eyes once or twice. It wasn't until I say 4 month into me staying there that Sherlock began to interact with me more instead of letting John do more of the talking during conversations. Like he had finally gotten use to me being around, as if he too adjusted to me. Which was good, because I was getting so tired of the awkward silences that would follow if I ran into him when he wasn't accompanied by John. The chats I had with Sherlock lasted for about 20 minutes at a time, and slowly grew to be longer time periods as the months dragged on. I even start to tease him which always seems to bring a grin to our faces. 

And for 6 months this lasted, this sort of bond of friendship I made with them. Sometimes I would invite them over for some coffee...and sometimes tea because I wanted to be that person from America. Because come on...an American inviting British people over...for a tea party...there's got to be a joke in there somewhere am I right? No? Well fine then. 

Back on topic, 6 months of just peace and stability. I worked my job, I worked out sometimes, and I made some friends so...it seemed for a moment I could forget about what had happened to me. 

But then everything went to shit and I got jumped by my problems on the curb. 

To try and summarize what was happening to me would be like writing a big old novel of tragic events. My bills from the states were coming in fast, I had to deal with MORE legal bullshit, I was getting weird calls from some unknown number to which I don't know who it is considering I got a brand new phone and shit so it couldn't be who I thought it was, and work was a complete trash fire. So cut to me now, eating ice cream at my desk while I ignore my duties and try to pretend like everything isn't complete shit right now. "If I can't see it...then I don't need to do it" I mumble to myself as I turn in my wheel chair. 

Unfortunately turning around gave me a clear view of the bills sitting up on my table. I grumbled slightly to myself as I shoved another spoonful in my mouth. It was like everywhere I turned really was like this. Nothing but stuff that needed to be done but not enough time in the world to do it. I couldn't get _any_ sleep last night in fact because I busy answering emails and working on other shit that I just couldn't ignore any more. Now the clear answer to these problems is probably to actually do them when I need to instead of doing them at the last minute but I'm a creature of habit and that habit is me procrastinating until I'm just about on the brink of extinction.

Which reminds me...I need to get the mail.

Letting out a groan I lean my head back and look toward the ceiling, counting to 10 before forcing myself to stand up and put on some actual pants and shoes so I could get the mail that I have...been ignoring...for a while. Of course that was what I planned on doing...until I heard a couple of knocks on my door. And these weren't just any old knocks, these were Sherlock knocks. He always seems to knock 4 times on my door, short but loud enough for me to hear. It was almost comforting to hear them in that way, it was like he was telling me he was here without barging into my apartment to tell me he was here.

So instead of walking to put on decent clothes I just kind of walked to the door without so much as thinking about it so much and opened it up to see- ah yes. Sherlock holding my mail...again. I pulled on a tight smile as he looked at me, raising that judging eyebrow as if wondering why the hell I was smiling when he was holding two handfuls of my mail. "It was getting cluttered...and I was wondering if you had died." He said as he passed off the mail to me, my little hands struggling to hold it all together.

"Really? I just checked it..."

"You haven't checked it for about 2 weeks Violet"

"Oh" I mumbled, flipping through the mail that Sherlock had most likely already went through. "2 weeks? Has it been 2 weeks since I got the mail?" I added, scrunching up my eyebrows. 2 weeks? Have I been scrunched up in my apartment for 2 weeks.

"2 weeks since you've done anything actually. I'm guessing from how wrinkly you're clothes are you haven't changed into proper clothing for 2 weeks either" Sherlock said while taking a glance over my appearance to which I kind of flushed at in embarrassment. Because he wasn't really lying there. I honestly haven't really done anything other then sit in my apartment and answer emails at the desk, do work for clients and try to live without going into a complete mental breakdown. To have Sherlock point this out to me and not figure it out myself made me just feel a bit...stupid and unkept. That and when you have a job that allows you to work at home you tend to just want to sit around in nice comfy clothes...

"Have you been that busy?" he asked, breaking me from my spell of staring at the mail instead of him. 

"Um...a bit. Things got crazy for me. Unlike you guys I don't go on big adventures all the time and solving crime." I chuckle nervously as I answer, looking up at him and giving a little smile. Now that he's mentioned that I haven't left the apartment for 2 weeks I wonder if I looked it too. Did I have heavy bags? Nasty bed hair? Ice cream breath?

"Hmm...you never did mention where you work" He questioned me again, to which I flinched at. Did I...not talk about that either? "In fact you don't really talk about yourself in general around us" he added, which only made my heart sink even further. Alright...maybe the friendship thing I mentioned earlier wasn't as deep as I liked to think it was. 

"Oh...well thanks for making me feel good about that Sherlock. Hello to you too" I said sarcastically to try and hide the disappointment in myself that I was once again doing what I did to just about everyone. Hiding myself, details about my life and so forth. I don't know why but it never seems to come to thought that I never share anything about MYSELF while my friends share just about everything with me. Not to mention I haven't made contact with anyone for 2 weeks...another bad habit I guess. Once I start to shut myself in I just can't seem to open the doors again. 

Wow, that sounded...deep for a second. 

So deep that I didn't even notice Sherlock had kind of made himself a new guest to my apartment, having slipped past me and right into my apartment. "Are you working right now?" he called from where my desk was at, scrolling through the emails I had on screen while also casting...judgmental looking gaze at the half melted ice cream sitting in a bowl on the side. 

"U-Um yeah. Sherlock I didn't invite you inside that's usually how you're kind are allowed in right?" I say, snapping from my daze once more to shut the door and make my way over to him. I place the mail stack on the coffee table near by and try to wedge myself between him and the computer, not wanting him anywhere near my stuff. Because I know Sherlock and I know that anything that isn't locked he will start searching through it no matter how private it is. 

I haven't deleted my search history, which added to the panic. 

"Are you a secretary or something?" He pondered as I pushed him away gently, edging him toward the door. It felt weird having him in my apartment alone without the company of someone else. The only time I ever found myself alone with him was when I am out getting something and I happen to run into him. Now this just felt...weird. I also haven't cleaned the apartment in a while. My apartment matched my inner self; a hot mess in the making. 

"Um no I work in a graphic design firm...these are just replies to clients I'm working with" I answer, now minimizing the window of emails while Sherlock busied himself with looking around the apartment as if he is seeing it for the first time. Maybe he was, considering when he came over the other few times he didn't really LOOK around ya know? He always sat on the couch closer to the window while letting his eyes roam just a little. I don't know if this was a sign of him trying to respect my privacy but it seems like that whatever was holding him back was...well not anymore. 

"Ah yes...you did mention you had an art degree...I didn't think you were into the sort of graphic design field. I thought you did a lot more drawing considering the welt on your ring finger" He said, moving toward the mantel this time to inspect the few picture frames I had put up. 

"I do just...not for work" I awkwardly answer while watching him move, trying to guess what he was going at. Why was he asking so much? Did he see something in the mail pile that gave him some kind of push to start priding a little further into who I was? Or was he just bothered that he didn't know that much about me other then what he could get at from his little deductions. "Sherlock do you...need something from me or something?" I ask after a moment of watching him. He turned to me and shook his before looking back at the picture frame he was holding. 

"Not yet" was his answer. Which wasn't really...comforting. "You were a dancer" he then stated matter of fact, to which I nodded slightly, surprised he was just now saying that given the picture he was holding. It was a old-ish picture, it was from my days in college when I was in a dance studio program with my friends. The picture was me in front of the studio with my friends, all three of us doing a split but they were smiling while I was faking a in pain expression. Yeah it was...a silly picture that I really liked. That and it's the only photo you will find of my wearing a pair of shorts and a crop top. 

"Um yeah but that was a while ago...don't really do dancing a lot anymore actually" I say as he sets the picture down. 

"Hmm...you should pick it back up. It could help bring up your mood"

"You mean...make me happy Sherlock? You can just say that instead you know" I say, rolling my eyes. Of course it wouldn't be the first time people have told me to do that. And it won't be the first time I brush it off and just continue doing what I'm doing. I don't have time for dancing that much anymore. 

He moves on to the other frames, sometimes glancing over a couple and others he looks at for a bit longer. He paused though on one picture that I really wished he didn't look at. It was a frame that I had sat on the shelf towards the back, where the shadow almost always covered it so no one really noticed it but me. "Who else was in this?" he asked as he picked up the small square frame and held up the picture. 

"No one. It's just me..." I answer with a innocent shrug.

"There was someone else in this picture though, the image is enlarged so they aren't in frame and it's just you. Plus you never take pictures of yourself. You tend to only have pictures of you or friends, even in your phone" he said, making a small gesture to my phone which rested on the table. 

"Did you go through my phone?" I asked, furrowing my eyes but he just waved his hand as if to try and brush that little factoid aside. 

"Not the point. There was someone else in this picture...ex bestfriend?...Old boyfriend you want to forget about?" he guessed, his eyes trained on me as he asked, tipping his head slightly when I stayed quiet. "Old boyfriend then?...Interesting" He concluded, leaving my scoffing. Don't think I didn't pick up on that smile he tried to hide at my response. 

"Yes very interesting. Can I help you with anything or are you just going to keep on going and annoy me to death" I said, reaching up to rub at my forehead while he moved down to the kitchen. 

"I'm just trying to get a handle on you is all" he said while opening my fridge, grimacing for a moment before closing it. "I figured you could use some human interaction as well since you haven't left home in a while...it's not healthy to trap yourself up for a long period of time" he added while roaming around the counters and opening random drawers. 

I rolled my eyes and smirked slightly. Oh was that it? Did Sherlock  _miss_ me to the point he had to practically barge into my apartment to see if I was still alive or not? Was he worried about little old me? "Wow Sherlock, if you missed me that much you should have just said so" I teased, looking back to him. He opened one of the drawers and paused, not moving a moment to which I smile even wider. Did I get him? Was that it? That was it wasn't it. 

"Please I just don't want you to end up like a hermit. That's the last thing I need right now is for my neighbor to be a shut in for the rest of her life" He mumbled, almost sounding distracted for a moment before gently shutting the drawer and turning around. "Ever thought about getting into more clubs? I bet there's a dance studio you can get into for a bit" He started, which raised an eyebrow for me. Clubs? What was this, high school?

"Or maybe go to the bar, find some friends and hang out. Go to special events" he added to his list, watching me as I began to laugh. But his face was unmoving to which my laughter flatlined. Wait...was he serious?

"Sherlock what is up with you? You're acting...weirder then usual" I say, wondering what the hell was wrong with this boy now. 

"I said before, I don't want you to be a hermit. It leads to bad health actions" He said while moving slowly from the kitchen and closer to where I stood. "And judging by you're eating habits you're already half way there, along with you're sleeping patterns." 

"I'm sleeping just fine"

"I beg to differ. You were up all night, pacing around you're flat and would only sit down ever 5 minutes before getting back up" he countered, which earned a little huff of laughter from me and another eyeroll. I began to form a clever comeback when he said something that made my heart stop. 

"Have you thought about dating again?" 

I nearly choked. 

"D-dating? What? I mean...what?" I replied, this time he rolled his eyes at me. "I don't...I mean...I don't think. I just..." I stumbled for words, trying to start my brain back up. He waited though for my response as I stood there, uncrossing and re-crossing my arms over my chest. Dating? What...what the fuck was that again? "I mean..." I finally took a moment to breath and chuckled nervously before looking back up at Sherlock. "I don't really have the time to date right now...too busy."

"You clearly aren't that busy if you have time to talk to me right now Violet"

"Well that's different, you barged in here and started snooping around like a bloodhound." I argued, swallowing the lump growing in my throat. "I don't have the time for that right now." I reiterate, looking down at my feet as I thought about the idea of dating again. I haven't thought about dating anyone since...what happened and this is the first time it's been brought up to my face. I mean...it's been a while since I've dated anyone. But something just...holds me back. 

"Are you scared of something?" Sherlock prodded after a moment, but I just shook my head even thought a small voice in me screamed  _YES I AM._

"Of course not" I lied, looking back at him. "I literally don't have time right now to go looking for a dude or sift through Tinder with strangers." which was a truth. I didn't have the time to mess around with strangers right now when I should be working. In fact I should be working RIGHT NOW instead of messing around with Sherlock and his little deduction game. "Unless this is your way of asking me out Sherlock" I tease, expecting him to counter with a stupid remark. 

"Will you if I ask?"

I choke. Literally I started choking on my spit as he said that. 

"Ex-Excuse me?"

"Will you go out if I was the one to ask you? You said so yourself that you didn't have time for strangers. And we aren't strangers" He went on, watching my face contort from confusion to super confusion to just down right stupid. 

"I was teasing Sherlock" I say, wondering if he was so out of it he thought I was being serious.

"I know that. And I was being serious. Are you going to answer or keep gapping like a fish that needs water?" He stated, which was such a Sherlock answer but my brain was too haywire to work properly. 

"Um I mean...if you were to ask I mean...I don't see...why not" I finally spit out, my cheeks flushing at the thought of going on a date with Sherlock which would have never crossed my mind until now...well that was a lie it did cross my mind a few times but I can't help it the imagination gets wild. But now that he was asking I feel like I was having a moment. Me and Sherlock on a date...somewhere nice while like...dating and whatnot. It just seemed wild to me to think about. I mean sure the guy was really smart and also super aware...and handsome with extremely high cheekbones...I just don't see how he would want to go on a date with someone like me. I wasn't exactly smart, or all that social. I didn't have a super hot body nor did I have a really hot face. At most people call me 'cute' and shit but never like hot or whatever. My body is like curvy but it use to be more so muscle then body fat now. And my face gets red so easily, how anyone could stand walking around with a tomato is beyond me. 

"That's good. I'll text you a day and time so you can get ready." He said with a smile spreading across his face before turning around and heading toward the door. He left me there just sort of...confused and looking around as if there was a camera and John was gonna jump out and yell 'GOTCHA YA' and this was gonna be a big old prank. But nothing was happening and I was confused, my heart beat was going so fast I could power a fucking car with that speed. Did Sherlock Holmes ask me on a...date or was I dreaming? This is a dream it has to be. I fell asleep at my desk and my face was buried in the ice cream and when I wake up I will look like someone was giving me a facial. I mean this couldn't be real...

 

"In the mean time why don't you focus on you're work so you can sleep tonight. It bothers me hearing you awake at night. Makes it harder for myself to sleep when hearing you stomp around like a buffalo" He said over his shoulder before leaving my apartment, the door clicking shut as I stood there.

 

Oh.

 

No this was real. 

 

Fuck. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took a bit longer, not going to lie. I had some personal stuff that popped up in my life and I honestly couldn't focus on writing even though I really wanted to update this within a shorter time frame then the last chapter. I felt bad for putting off this chapter for so enjoy this kind of extra long chapter! I also wanted to start adding in some romance too, some fluff because I'm dying for it so expect some in the chapters following ;v; I'm hoping to update it sooner after this.  
> Thanks for all the support too!


	7. It all started with a big BANG!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: In coming chapters there will be talk of dark subjects, so be advised and pay attention to the first notes of these chapters!

Oh god

Oh  _god_

_Oh dear sweet baby lord Jesus_

Is any of this real? Am I really in reality right now? I have to be in some kind of 6th dimension right now where everything is all wacky. Everything has to be backwards or maybe I was abducted by aliens and right now their running weird experiments on my brain. 

My heart was beating faster then a rabbit running on a treadmill, it honestly felt like I was going to go into cardiac arrest...but I actually wouldn't know if I was since I have never had one. I just assume because the heart and like...it has to hurt right I mean- NO. Off topic Violet, off topic. But how could I stay on topic? My brain was jumping from one thought to the other without so much as stopping to even breathe. I could even feel the stress aches start to form in my stomach, you know the pains you get when you get stressed...like...I'm not the only one...right?

Whatever! In summary my stomach was hurting and I felt it got 100 degrees hotter in my living room even though it was a brisk 65 degrees Fahrenheit outside. I had to calm down, I needed to chill out and think rationally about what was going on.  I was getting worked up probably over  _nothing._ All I know is that this isn't even a real date. He had asked me if I would go out with him purely because I haven't really left the apartment in a while. He was worried...yes. That made more sense then him actually taking any interest in me I mean, where did even the thought of him remotely liking me come from? This had to be nothing more than a friend date. Like going out to get coffee with a friend, seeing a movie with a friend. Hanging out. Chilling. Yes, that made sense. I released a long shaky exhale as I thought about it more. I even released a little chuckle, how silly was I to think this was an actual date? I probably freaked out because I've forgotten the feeling of just being social. It is a lost art to me, to which I don't really practice all that much. Not because I can't I just...don't wanna. 

My heart calmed down, my brain sizzled and I felt okay...until I got in my pocket. A text from Sherlock...damn that boy was fast. I fished the phone to see what the magical man has texted me. 

 

**Sherlock: Tomorrow night, OXO Tower Restaurant at 7:30. Sound appropriate?** _Received_

 

The OXO Tower Restaurant? The fuck is that? I was sort of hoping he would suggest Chipotle or maybe like...Wendy's cause like...I don't know. To investigate I turn on my heels and almost tackle my chair to sit in front of my computer, just to google this OXO place. 

"OXO...Tower....Restaurant..." I mumble as I type it in, my phone sitting on the side as it awaits for me to answer Sherlock. 

 

_Searching....Searching..._

 

Ding ding we have a-!

Holy Fuck. 

No no no no...he...he couldn't be serious this...this place looked....well,  _expensive._

The more I looked at it, the more I wondered if Sherlock was 100% certain this was the place to go. So in a haste I texted him:

 

**Violet: Are you sure? Like...do you know what this place looks like or did you just randomly point to a restaurant?** _Sent_

 

I set the phone down and place my hands on the side of my head, letting out a soft groan as I massaged my temples at the thought of Sherlock picking out a expensive as all hell restaurant...friends wouldn't do that. Friends would decide on either to go to Bob Evans or Red Robins for lunch, somewhere middle ground where both parties could split the check. There was no way in hell I would afford this place...Could Sherlock? I mean not to be that girl but...Sherlock doesn't peg me for a...fancy...dinner type of guy. He looks like he would be okay with a coffee date or going to the bookstore. It just seemed very un-Sherlock like and I didn't know how I felt about that. Before I know it my phone dings and I probably snatch it up faster then I would like. 

 

**Sherlock: Of course I'm sure. First dates are suppose to be lasting impressions are they not? I believe it will suit just fine for a first date.** _Received_

 

That...didn't really help in making me feel better. I don't care if the date has a lasting impression, I didn't want him to spend a lot of money on me. It felt wrong, it felt...it felt like a waste. I mean, I'm not the sort to get all dolled up to go out on these fancy dinner dates. Plus I would probably stick out like a sore thumb to boot. I just...I just don't think...I'm worth the money to spend on for this sort of thing. 

Before my thoughts could go any deeper, or before I could even come up with some kind of excuse my phone dinged again. 

 

**Sherlock: Trust me on this Violet.** _Received_

 

Trust him....was...was I not trusting him? Maybe I mean...I was doubting myself and a lot of things. It would be kind of rude to turn my nose up at this...wouldn't it? It's a nice place and he's willing to take me there...and it would be nice to actually have an excuse to wear the fancy dresses just sitting there in the back of my closet again. Hey, I won't deny that I love me a good pair of leggings and oversized shirt. Give me a Sweater and a pair of sneakers any day of the week. Combat boots? I have 10. Mismatching socks Monday to Sunday. Maybe even a little necklace here and there. Comfortable style is my game....but I won't say no to maybe wearing a nice dress with a cute pair of heels. Maybe even doing my makeup just a small bit...I don't know it's...something I haven't done in forever. So with a shaky set of hands...I respond. 

 

**Violet: Okay. 7:30 at the OXO. Sounds good. I won't argue, just take the wheels Sherlock Holmes.** _Sent_

 

I set down my phone once it sends, swallowing the thick knot that has been forming in my throat for who knows how long. Oh boy. There was no going back now, I...oh geez I was gonna have to pick out an outfit and-and plan. And get up at a reasonable time...before 2 pm. I couldn't sit still now, my brain was back up into a haze and I was already wondering if it was too late to tell him I suddenly came down with the case of the flu that magically goes away in 24 hours. Before I could go into full blown WTF mode my phone started to ring, blasting away that disco electro music that I like. Was that Sherlock to personally confirm via voice that it was a set date? Cause that's extra, even for me. 

No. No it wasn't, actually it was Eva who I could have sworn I talked to...about...6...months ago. Oh shit. 

Licking my lips nervously I answered the call after waiting a heartbeat longer, wondering what furry waited for me on the other side. 

"Hey! Eva! Long time no-"

" _Violet May Rin Connery, 6 fucking months of SILENCE!"_ She practically screeched into the receiver, which could possibly break a humans ear drum. In fact a dog started barking outside so I can only imagine what those poor doggy ears are going through right now. 

"Eva, listen I- I can explain" I begin but Eva was having NONE of it. My sister is a very...emotional person. In summary we're as close as two sisters could be, even when I moved out she made sure I kept to a schedule of calling her at least once a month to make sure I wasn't dead. Or to at least text a simple "Hey" if I wasn't up to a long chit chat gossip fest. Seeing as I haven't been...completely in tact with her since I...guess it sort of made her a bit upset with me. 

"You haven't spoken to me in 6 months! 6 months! You didn't even call me back after that call with the gun sounds in the background!"

Shit. Did I forget about that too? Oops. Or as my people like to say, Ope. ( It's an Ohio thing, don't ask me what it means I...don't really understand it. I just like how it sounds )

"I thought you were dead! I thought something horrible happened to you!" She yelled once more, as I tried to think of a way to worm myself from this hot mess.

"Yeahhhh" I began, clearing my throat as I lean back in my chair. "Well I can confirm I am NOT dead. At least not from guns..." I tried for a jab, or something lighthearted but my sister stayed silent on the other end. Just her angry breathing into the phone that escalated the guilt I felt. I let out a long sigh before mustering up my courage. "Alright, Alright...I'm sorry. I should have called you back I've just...it's just been a very busy few months Eva. REALLY busy." I begin to explain, trying my best to sound as sorry as I could. To which I was, I had left my sister on a scary note for a few months and haven't spoken to her since. Not exactly a good move on my part, but then again I have been a bit preoccupied lately. Still...could have dropped a text at least. 

There were a few moments of silence, she was probably doing her famous 'death glare' to which she thinks it's really scary when really it just sort of makes her look kind of a silly. But eventually I heard a soft sigh on the other end, and that usually meant a good sign so I couldn't help but smile when she began to talk normally instead of screeching like a parrot on steroids at me. 

"Fine...I suppose I could have called sooner too but...whatever. What's done is done I guess. Just promise me to call me more often! You're much farther away now so I can't just drop by and break into your house to check on you" she said, which earned a smile from me. Eva has a funny way of um...showing she cares but it's the type of caring love that only I could ever really understand. 

"Anyway, tell me what's been happening! 6 months of living in London I mean you got to have something! Have you met any wonderful strangers? Gotten into any bar fights? Oh! Met any cute guys? Give me somethingggggg" she dragged out the last word as she switched to her normal Eva mode to which I rolled my eyes at. 

"I don't know what you're expecting really Eva. This isn't some fantasy drama where I get dragged into space time adventures with a British dude in a blue phone box. I've been working, unpacking and doing all sorts of stuff." I begin to explain, hesitating for a moment if I should even mention to her about Sherlock. I mean there are other things I should tell her like the letter I got but... that could wait. My sister believes our story with that problem is over...so I want to keep it over for her at least. 

"Buttttt" I begin, hearing her little gasp as if this was a turning point in a story. "I kind of...sort of...met this..." I paused, wondering how to best describe Sherlock that didn't make it sound like he was a creepy weirdo. "...Interesting guy and he kind of sort of....asked me out on a dat-" before I could even finish my sentence my sister gave a loud shrill scream of joy that I was 70% sure made me 30% deaf in one ear. 

"Ohmygosh Ohmygosh Ohmygosh, VIOLET!!! You met a GUY?! And he asked you out already, ohmygosh how-I have to know EVERYTHING. His name, birthday, his zodiac sign- everything!" She squealed with that common sister excitement you would expect. 

"Um...well I don't know his birthday...or his Zodiac sign...but his name is Sherlock-"

"Weird but go on"

"-Anddddd he lives in the apartment below me-"

"OHMYGOSH HE'S YOU'RE LENONARD TO YOUR PENNY!" She once again interrupted with what I was guessing was a reference to the Big bang Theory...somehow. "Is he hot? Does he look ANYTHING close to Henry Cavill? Or David Beckham?" She spitfire me some British dudes who I'm sure she obsessed over at one point in her life. 

"Um well...I mean...he has really nice cheekbones and...he quite handsome I suppose..." I awkwardly, and lamely, describe Sherlock to my sister. I wasn't really the best at giving a nice description on people...but you know I try. 

"That's it? Come on Violet, you have to have more on him. Do you have any pictures or something so I can see? Does the dude have Facebook?" Eva pressed on, eager to get her hands on some information about Sherlock. But I shrugged, and after waiting a spell realized she couldn't see my shrug so I just began to stutter like a big idiot. 

"I have no idea, I- I don't really keep tabs on if he has social media or not Eva" I felt the nerves begin to settle in once more, the feeling of Eva pressing in on this was getting a bit much. I understand she's excited but...damn it felt like she was getting a bit too excited over this. And I wasn't really sure why she was so excited over something as small as me getting asked out on a date. She's heard of me going on a date before, but none of those times has she screamed and interrogated for information about it at this extent. Usually she asks for his name and what he's like and that's it. 

"So where is he taking you? Please tell me you didn't convince another guy to take you to Chipotle" she asked after freaking out for a minute on the other end. 

"Um some place called the OXO tower restaurant...." I answer, hearing her little gasp I could only guess she somehow magically knew about this place.

"I've heard of that place! Me and Jessie have it pegged on our calendar for when we visit there. But Violet... that place is kind of pricey...you didn't tell me you're hot new boyfriend had some deep pockets" She giggled, that stupid giggle that made me flush in all over. 

"He's-! No! He's not...he's not rich, he...he just wants to treat me to a nice first date I guess. I don't know I didn't ask him to take me somewhere super nice. I didn't even get a chance to try and convince him to go to chipotle" I grumbled, wanting to talk about anything else now. I didn't need to be reminded that the place we were going was gonna be hella expensive probably. Nor did I want to talk about anything else regarding Sherlock- it's been a weird day. Now isn't the time to recount the few weird moments so far with my sister. 

"Ohhhh. Looking to impress you eh? How gentlemen of him to do so hehe" she giggled again, like she could sense the heat coming off of my face. "I wonder if he's doing this so it can be easier to try and land a kiss on ya"

My face was a tomato now. I was a tomato. Violet who? Don't know her, I'm just a tomato. 

 

"E-Eva it isn't like that. Sherlock doesn't do stuff like this to...land an easy one" I say with a softer tone, too afraid to talk louder in case a certain someone will hear...or if my voice cracks. 

"Hmm that's what they WANT you to think. But really they want to just land one small kiss on ya...it's like the true test to see if it's meant to be" Eva continued with ANOTHER stupid giggle. Ugh, it was times like this I wish I could just teleport over and ring her giggle box out of her. 

"Yeah right. Could...could we talk about anything else? How have you and Jessie been doing?" I ask, trying to steer off topic away from me and onto my own sisters love adventures. To which it did succeed, once you get Eva to talk about her much beloved Jessie she won't shut up. Which was what I was aiming for, because if she was talking about Jessie, they she wasn't talking about me or Sherlock. At least...it seemed like a good idea. Until I realized she's been talking non stop for 2 hours and honestly I was tired already. 

Finally, I got her to hang up at long last....not without a super stretched out goodbye. But still I was able to get her to hang up, and let the air around me fall silent. 

Silence

 

It allowed me to think actually, and comprehend what was to come. 

 

Tomorrow night, I am going on a date with Sherlock Holmes...at 7:30 at the OXO tower restaurant....

 

On a date. 

 

With Sherlock Holmes. 

 

Oh god

Oh  _god_

_Oh dear sweet baby lord Jesus_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter at last, yayyyyyyyy. I'm getting better I think at pumping them out...maybe. I don't know. I'm just getting ready for some fluff and cute stuff next few chapters, which will hopefully be nice. Idk. 
> 
> I really appreciate the comments too on the story! It really makes me want to write more after seeing how much you all enjoy reading this!


	8. Violet the red nose reindeer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Contains mild cursing

 

I want to barf

No seriously...I really feel like barfing right now. I have never felt so queasy... so uncomfortable in my whole life. And I've been through Middle school and High school man. Those are some uncomfortable and sick enduring days. But this felt...a lot worse in adult terms. 

Me and Sherlock had just arrived to the OXO, having been seated at this table that a beautiful view over the river and to some domed building which I think was a church? I don't know, google maps didn't really make it easy to find out. But either way, we've been sitting here...almost in complete silence. Probably because of the fact that if I opened my mouth I would barf all over this table and then drop dead. I mean really I felt...out of place I guess is what I was saying. Didn't help that my outfit was not exactly uh...normal I think for a place like this.

Let just say that everyone here was wearing nice, pretty and CLEAN clothes. Me? I was wearing a sweater with the middle finger drawn up on the front with a pair of dirty leggings that I have worn for the 3rd time this week. And sneakers that were so old that I had to super glue the sole to the actual shoe together this morning. I looked like a angsty teen out with her very posh looking friend ready to start a food fight any second. I wouldn't be against it but I'm an adult and starting a food fight takes energy and effort that I can't spare right now. 

"You're rather quite this evening" 

His words snapped me out of my trance, I didn't even realize I had been staring at the same dinner choice for the last like 10 minutes. I looked up from the menu to meet his pale blue eyes, which was burning right into my soul. "O-oh" I stammer, reaching up to brush a strand of hair behind my ear...even though the other side fell forward to just curtain the other side of my blushing face. "I um...just don't have a lot to say I guess" I shrugged as I gave the lame excuse, not really wanting to fess up and tell him that I felt so out of place here and wanted to curl up in a little ball. 

But knowing Sherlock he probably already knew that actually. He raised an eyebrow to my words before placing the menu he had slightly elevated from the table back, and then leaned back in his chair just a tad. Another moment of silence goes by, my eyes turning back to the dumb dinner option which was...what the hell was this anyway? Where the hell was the cheap shit? 

"You look nice by the way" he spoke again, which only made me want to scoff and tell him to fuck off or something. I looked like a mess and HE was the one that looked good. 

"Um...thanks? You look pretty good yourself...I mean pretty nice or um...You look good" I stumble for what I wanted to sound classy and tasteful and not well, something I would probably say if I was in the private of my own home. He nodded in thanks, and the silence came back once more. I feel like...this was going to happen a lot. Awkward small talk and just...long moments of silence. 

 _I should have just said no...this isn't going well at all..._ I thought to myself. Me and Sherlock are like two very different sides of a coin, Sherlock being the shiny more polished side and me being well...the side that got dirty with junk in the crevices. We were just...too different, I have no idea what I thought in my head to somehow think that this could have been successful. After a moment more of hush, my shoulders slumping slightly as I beg the waiter that had come by earlier to come back to take our dumb orders. But considering the place was pretty packed...I don't think the universe will come to my rescue this time around. 

"Violet?" he spoke again, earning back my attention as I look up to him. 

"Yes?" I answer back, in the most customer friendly like voice ever. I didn't even notice how ramrod my spine was right now, how I sat on the very edge of my seat like I was ready to get up and run away. 

"You don't normally go out to places like this...do you?" he asked at last, my body stiffening even more at his statement. I nodded slightly and gave a lame chuckle. "Geez....what gave it away?"

"You're stiff posture, you're jittery behavior and the way you avoid looking up from the table"

Did he really have to answer?

I sigh, my shoulders sagging just a bit as I could feel a frown beginning to form on my face. "Well..." I mumbled, taking a glance around before looking back to him. "Can you blame me, I mean...look at this place Sherlock. Not exactly my scene..." I muttered. 

"Hmm...I suppose you're right. I had only thought you would...enjoy something like this." He said, settling back in his chair as he gazed around the large dinning room. My eyes followed, bouncing around the different types of people seated around circular tables. To be honest...it was a nice restaurant. The chairs weren't those lame hardwood chairs...instead it was like a nice leather cushion. And the window that divided us from the outside stretched far in both directions giving a clear view of the buildings across from us. And the lights...oh they had to be the best part. Everything was illuminated in some kind of ultra violet light with splashes of yellow lighting here and there. It was actually very...pretty.

"I...I don't NOT enjoy it, it's just...been a while since I've been to a place this...fancy I suppose" I answer swallowing the lump that was forming in my throat when saying those words. 

"So you've been to places like this before?" he questioned, tipping his head just slightly into his hand which granted his noggin some support. It was like his thinking pose or whatever you would want to call it. 

"Um...yeah...but that was a long time ago I...I don't really do that kind of stuff anymore..." I muttered, not really wanting to dive in about how I use to be taken to places like this ALL the time. How I use to get all fancy and pretty for date nights and then to be spoiled by beautiful restaurants and gorgeous atmospheres. 

"Interesting...I wouldn't really peg you for the type for that sort of thing at all..."

I scoff and roll my eyes to the statement. "You've pegged me to not do a lot of things Sherlock. There's more to me then meets the eye...or at least to you, more then meets your dumb deductions" I joke, seeing his eyebrow twitch at my words but I could have sworn a small smile tug at his lips. 

"Then what else is there to Violet Connery?" He inquired, leaning forward this time to place his hands on the table clasped together with his elbows pointing outwards. I grinned, as if the stance will entice me to suddenly share all my secrets. 

"Sorry Sherlock, looks like you're level requirement isn't high enough to unlock those yet. Gonna have to earn more EXP" I tease, looking back down to the menu again but with a more relaxed posture and a smile gracing my lips. 

"Then what can I learn about you right now?" He pushed on, his eyes locked onto me. I pondered this for a minute, wondering what exactly I was willing to share with him that he didn't already know. He knew about my job, he knew about the pills I get and frankly he was already snooping around my other crap. Favorite color maybe? I didn't really know at that point in time actually. I opened my mouth to give the lame as all hell answer to what my favorite color was but before I could give the answer, the mythical waiter appeared! And me without my pokeballs. 

"Sorry for the wait, pretty busy tonight actually. I'm guessing you two are ready to order?" the waiter asked, beaming a smile at us to which kind of shocked me from the little bubble I guess the two of us had created. I began to straighten up again, not even realizing that I had almost fully began to slouch in the chair and just relax...but I was beginning to become aware once again of the place we were at and-

"Actually we could use a few more minutes"  Sherlock said, not even looking away from me as he said it. 

"O-oh...." The waiters smile almost gave way to a confused frown, glancing from him to me as if trying to get confirmation. I merely glanced from the waiter to Sherlock, shifting in my seat before nodding my head slowly to agree. 

"We got awfully distracted, and like you said you are busy. Next time around we'll be ready but for now...just a few more moments" he pressed, looking up at the waiter at last. The waiter stood there for a moment wondering if they should really move on or not, but they nodded and smiled before slowly heading on to the next table. I watched the waiter leave before shifting my sight to Sherlock once more, who had leaned back into his chair in a more chilled manner so to speak. 

"We don't need any more time Sherlock it's been like...20 minutes" I said, but he only gave a slight shrug. 

"Well why didn't you say you were ready?"

"Because you were already speaking for the both of us!" 

"Could have still said something...you act so much more submissive then I thought...I wonder if that's the same for behind closed doors" he mused, and frankly the last bit sounded...I don't know it sounded dirty. 

"Why you gotta say stuff like that?!" I exclaimed, my cheeks flaring up again as I stared at him. "That sounds...weird!"

"You're the one that is taking it in that direction" he pointed out, which...only made me blush harder because he was probably right. Shit. 

But honestly, even though I felt...a bit embarrassed... I can say it seemed more like the right thing to say if that makes sense. It felt a bit more like our normal banter you know? Which made things feel less like I was in some big fancy restaurant wearing horrible clothes...to sitting in a big fancy restaurant wearing horrible clothes but slightly more okay with it. The banter kind of carried on for the rest of the dinner, which we actually got to order at some point. We ate, talked, I got upset because he was a douche, he got annoyed when I was smart. Rinse dry and repeat basically. I would describe the rest of the night like that but to be honest there wasn't much to describe considering how lack luster the conversations were basically without the banter and shit.

The way home was okay, we talked about different things and we managed to keep the awkward silence at bay for the most part. He talked about his cases...of course, but ones I haven't heard about before. He seemed to enjoy talking about them which was good...it also seemed to be one of the few things he really wanted to talk about. What did I expect? Sherlock to open up his life story to me in one night? 

Although I would like to hear less about...dead bodies...

When he wasn't talking about cases he was asking me loads of questions to which I tried my best to avoid when it got a bit too close to personal business.

By the time we got back I could tell it was WAY past a normal persons bedtime...which is like 8:00 pm right? Do people still do that? My bedtime is a strong 2 am followed by laying in bed looking at my phone. 

"You don't have to walk me back Sherlock I'm LITERALLY right about you" I point out, as he follows me up the steps to my apartment. Literally just a staircase away from him and he wants to walk me back like something BAD is gonna happen.

"What kind of gentlemen would I be if I didn't see to you home safely." he countered, offering a smile to which I return with an eyeroll. 

"Alright yeah, whatever you say. Who knows maybe I'll be jumped from some kind of shadow ninja" I tease, stopping in front of my door with my keys in hand. I unlock the handle, but don't push the door open just yet. I wanted to bid Sherlock off the right way considering how well everything went. Plus he paid for dinner so...I kind of have to suck up to him. 

"So uh this is my stop..."

"So it is..."

"..."

"...."

" I gotta...I think I'm just gonna...go" I said, pointing my thumb back towards the door after a moment of silence stretched between us. I offered a somewhat shy smile before turning around to push the door open. 

"Violet"

I pause, turning around when he said my name once more. Not gonna lie I was getting use to him saying my name now. 

"Do you want to do this again sometime?" He asked, his eyes pin pointed onto mine when asking which gave me the shivers. 

"Do what?"

"Go on another date"

"Oh um...." I press my lips together, actually thinking this time around if that was a good idea. Don't get me wrong I had a good time, the food was good and we cracked some good laughs but...I don't know if it would work out in the end. Like I mentioned before we are TOTALLY different. He's smart and probably has his life all put together like a neat little puzzle...and I'm over here still trying to putt he triangle block into the circle hole. 

"Maybe....I'll get back to you on that" I chuckle, giving an answer that wasn't a complete No but wasn't exactly a yes either. It seemed to please him which was what I was going for. He nodded and offered just a bit of smile. 

"Until next time then, Violet" He gave a little nod with his head and turned around to head to his own apartment door. 

"Goodnight Sherlock" I respond, watching him head down the stairs and enter his own little flat. To which I follow is example and enter my flat.

 

And now that I'm hommmmeee

I raid my fridge and get ready to binge watch the rest of Breaking Bad. 

 

Like I said. Strong 2 am

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GAHHH I HATE HOW LONG THIS TOOK! I've just been so tired lately and I was having the hardest time trying to make a cute chapter from this. I swear I'm a lot better at making fluff when it's further in the story I swear it. I tried my best to make this like a cute date but also something that would be natural for Violet, because Violet isn't exactly like a...cute date person. I tried to convey she's more so a nervous date person at first and then a more chill girl. Not the kind to like giggle and make doe eyes. Anyway I hope you guys like it, and thanks for the wonderful comments <3


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